His Clara
by Black Snowdrop
Summary: [AU Time of the Doctor] The Doctor's youth is reset, his future is changed and Clara is still annoyed with him for sending her away. The nightmare of Trenzalore is finally over for the Doctor. But in the wake of everything that happened in the town called Christmas, Clara is overwhelmed by everything that happened.
1. Chapter 1: Post Trenzalore

Her Doctor was waiting for her inside the TARDIS, behind the console with that childish, goofy grin on his face.

Clara exhaled as she leaned backwards, closing the doors behind her. The noise of battle had disappeared minutes ago and the sounds of the ravaged town of Christmas clearing up the aftermath vanished with the closing of the doors. The familiar humming and beeping of the TARDIS and the general quiet of the room signalled that everything was okay again. Another world saved. Another future changed. Another day in the TARDIS.

But it nearly hadn't been. It had nearly come to an end in more ways than one. That thought haunted Clara as she caught her breath.

"Ready to go?" the Doctor called over from the console and Clara refocused her attention on the wacky Time Lord hurrying around the console panels. "That worked out rather well. I've got a new regeneration cycle and I've had this face reset. Not getting rid of this face for a while. Great, eh, Clara? You're stuck with me!" He grinned as he moved around like a jumping jack, touching controls and panels. Clara just watched him for a moment.

Out of nowhere came the impulse to punch him. But Clara held herself back. She forced it with all of her willpower but it still lingered there, slowly channeling energy and strength into her right fist. Go on, you know you want to. He deserves it. But still Clara held herself back. What would be the point? Logic reasoned over her anger and the impulse began to die away. Clara stepped away from the door and walked up to the centre of the TARDIS. The Doctor was pressing buttons and pulling switches. She'd long since stopped trying to figure out how he flew the thing and it wasn't a priority right now.

"I'm- I'm going to my room," she said quietly. She walked around the console, away from the Doctor and down the nearest stairs, the ones she knew led to her room.

"Clara?" the Doctor called after her.

"I'm tired," she called back. That wasn't a lie, not really. The back and forth between Earth and Trenzalone, the exchanges with the church and the Daleks and the emotional upheaval of the day. It wore her down. Maybe she would feel better after she slept. Except her mind was so alert, so bent on focusing on the day that she doubted she would be able to sleep.

Through the doors, turn left, down two more corridors and then third door on the right. Clara stepped into her bedroom and closed the door behind her.

Her room was pretty simple and kind of futuristic looking. The walls were royal blue with silver skirting boards. The furniture was classic wood furnished only painted silver. She had an armoire, a four poster bed, a desk and a window looking out into the time vortex. Clara walked towards her bed and sat down facing the window, staring off into space as she did. Back home it was still Christmas, she thought. Her family were waiting for her to explain why she'd dashed out so suddenly. Clara felt a headache coming on. She couldn't think of that right now. Not without thinking about the Doctor sending her back there not once, but twice. Breaking her trust, her plea for him not to trick her into going home again. He'd done it and it hurt even if it was for a good cause. It didn't take away Clara's fear of losing her daft, sexy, hilarious Doctor. All it had done was make her feel helpless.

He was facing death and he'd still thought about keeping her safe. He'd chosen to give in and die but to keep her safe. Clara rested her elbows on her knees and held her face in her hands. Tears began to trickle down her face. It was stupid, really, she reasoned. The Doctor had done a kind thing, putting her safety first. It had come from a good place. She shouldn't be mad at him for caring about her safety. But she was. She was hurt that he had betrayed her, that he had lied to her. That he had chosen to die on his own in that bell tower. Even when she'd come back to him, he'd made her stay indoors. She'd had to take her chance with those Time Lords to save the Doctor's life. How stupid was that?

But her tears kept falling down her face. She had nearly lost him today and it didn't matter that it worked out fine, that the Doctor had a new regeneration cycle. She had nearly lost him and he had chosen to break her trust. Those were the only two points of the day that she could concentrate on right now. As the tears left tracks down her face, Clara began to sob. She couldn't have a day like this again. She couldn't go through it. She wasn't strong enough. No one was.

In the privacy of her room, she let herself cry.

Some time later, she heard a light knocking on the door.

"Clara?" the Doctor's voice was quieter and more cautious than she was used to. Clara hurriedly wiped her eyes. "Clara, are you okay? I-I'm going to come in. I hope you're decent!" he called through. The absurdity of his concern struck Clara and brought a weak smile to her face. It quickly disappeared again under the weight of everything else.

"I'm decent," she called through, her sounding as strong as her smile.

The Doctor pushed open her door just as Clara was adusting herself on the bed to face the door. He'd donned his dark purple coat again and looked dressed like they were going out somewhere. It dawned on Clara that he probably thought it was business as usual. One death defying day done with, onto the next one. The thought caught her off guard and words died in her throat as she looked at him. She watched him close the door behind himself and turn to her. That daft grin on his face was still there. But it didn't meet his eyes and it began to disappear as he looked at her.

Clara looked away from him. If she was a cat, her hackles would have risen. She felt her defenses rising up immediately.

"Clara," the Doctor's voice was softer again. But she didn't look back at him. She realised how tiring it was trying to look into that face and pretend she was fine when she wasn't?

"Doctor," she managed to say without her voice doing an impression of jelly.

"Clara, what's wrong?" the Doctor hurried around the bed, moving in front of her. He bent down in front of her, trying to see into her face. Clara looked up at him with a sigh. He was really asking that, huh? God, he was clueless. She sniffed a little bit.

The Doctor's face was a canvas of concern now. "Clara." He reached for her hands, taking one of them and cupping it in both of his own. The gesture was sweet and yet intensified her annoyance with him at the same time. She pulled her hand away from him and looked lower down at the floor.

"Don't do that." She said so quietly that it was barely audible. "I'm too mad at you right now."

Long seconds of silence followed her words. After about sixty of them had passed, Clara looked up and wished that she hadn't. She saw green eyes in distress and confusion, slightly widened, under barely visible furrowed brows and a chin that looked even more prominent now that the face was frowning. She sighed again, this time softer. A tear slid from the corner of her eye and she moved to catch it but the Doctor's hand was faster, cupping her cheek and brushing the tear away with his thumb.

"Oh Clara," he whispered. He quivered a little where he was hunched over, as if he couldn't decide if he was crouching or standing and then he sank to his knees in front of her, his hand still caressing her face. She looked down into his remorseful green eyes and this time she couldn't look away. "Clara, I'm sorry." The Doctor whispered to her. "I'm sorry." His other hand found her hands and covered them both. She didn't move them. "I just wanted you safe. That was the only thing I could do for you. I didn't want us both stuck there."

Another tear escaped and the Doctor brushed it away again. "I thought I couldn't control my destiny so why should I damn you along with me?"

"It was my choice, Doctor," Clara whispered. "You should have let me make it," she added. "Besides, even if I'd chosen to go home, I would have wanted to say goodbye."

"I'm no good with goodbyes," the Doctor's voice sounded croaky. "I hate endings. I didn't want to say goodbye to you."

"Yeah well I didn't want to be ditched back on Earth without warning," Clara said as more tears slid from both cheeks. "I'm sorry if that is selfish but we've been through too much for it to just end like that and… and…" she fought to regain control over her breathing and her emotions. "I wanted to be there for you. I didn't want you to die alone." She wiped at her eyes after freeing one of her hands. "And I know you still kept me safe even when I came back again but you didn't have to face it on your own."

"Clara," the Doctor breathed, a sad smile building up over his face as he spoke, "my impossible girl, always trying to save me. I'm always going to try and save you, Clara, to keep you safe. I'm not going to apologise for that," he told her gently.

"But you don't help yourself," Clara countered. "That's what gets to me. You didn't even think to ask the Time Lords for help, did you? Did that even occur to you?"

The Doctor's smile became warmer. "No. But you did, didn't you?" He reached up to cup both of her cheeks. "I should have known not to leave you alone with a crack in time and space," he mused and Clara smiled despite herself. "You saved me again, Clara and I don't know how I can ever repay that."

"I don't want you to repay it," Clara told him exasperatedly. "I just want you to try and save yourself every now and again. You've earned it." She looked into his eyes. "Because I don't ever want to go through that again, you waiting for your death like that. It was unbearable." She closed her eyes and her words finally failed her. She let out a choked kind of sob and suddenly she was being pressed against the Doctor. One hand held her back, the other stroked the back of her head. She felt his lips against her temple and she began to hug him back. The feeling mingled with an urge to hit his shoulder and tell him he couldn't get out of this with a hug.

But he could. He totally could, apparently.

His hand began to rub her back as she hugged him. She even felt him start to rock her and she had to admit, that felt nice.

"Clara I'm sorry," he told her. "I'm so sorry."

This time Clara didn't attempt to stop the flow of tears or speak. She just sat there holding onto her friend, this ridiculous, incredible, impossible man. Tears of frustration for what today had brought, tears of relief that it was over, tears of joy that he was safe and tears of pain for what had almost happened. As Clara clung to him, she thought about the people she had lost in her life; her mum, her grandad, her uncle Eric, her cousin Jodie and all the pets that she had loved. She couldn't bear it if the Doctor's name was ever added to that list. She knew that now, in her heart of hearts and it kept her holding tighter onto him until all the emotion poured out of her. Her muscles slackened and tiredness rolled over her in wave after wave. Clara's eyes began to close and her grip disappeared.

"Just go to sleep, Clara," the Doctor's voice was low and soothing and growing fainter and fainter until it disappeared entirely along with her consciousness.

Half an hour passed and the Doctor was still sitting on Clara's bed, watching her sleep where he'd lain her down. He couldn't bring himself to look away. His eyes chased every emotion that flickered across her face as she slept. He gently brushed his thumb across one of her hands.

How she still managed to surprise him, his impossible girl. She'd been taken back home twice and still been brought back to him. She'd clung to the TARDIS in her determination to come and see him again, to say goodbye and to try and save him. It reminded him painfully of Rose, the way she'd taken the Time Vortex into herself to save him from the Emperor of the Daleks and the invasion of the Game Station. Did he really inspire his companions to take crazy risks for him? It certainly seemed so. But there was Time Vortex crazy and then there was jumping into his time stream crazy. At least the impossible girl made a bit more sense now. At least that was what he had thought before Tranzalore happened.

He had been ready to accept his death, ready to say goodbye to this universe because it was "supposed" to happen. And yet there Clara had been saying, "No. No it doesn't have to happen." and getting the Time Lords to help him. The Doctor smiled to himself as he looked at the beautiful, fragile little human girl on the bed. No one said no to Clara, it seemed. And the Doctor was immeasurably proud of her for it. But today had taken its toll. He knew that now.

The Doctor wanted to take that pain, those tears away from her. But it was one of the things he could never do. Clara was a human. Her capacity for feeling things was intense, just like her lifespan. Humans burned brightly but briefly. The Doctor didn't want her to burn out. In fact, he didn't want her to go anywhere soon. He continued to stroke her hand.

What was it about humans that there was always someone who had to steal his hearts?

Clara's dreams were always strange in the TARDIS.

It was as if her mind had fully come to appreciate how vast the universe was and decided to give her imagination a workout. Her dreams tonight were all wrapped in a dark emerald smoke with stars glittering through it in one second and disappearing in the next. Shadows rushed through the smoke, moving around Clara just as the Doctor's incarnations had run all around her when she'd gone into his time stream. The sensation was no less creepy in her dreams. Voices, numerous and distorted carried through the endless space as Carla walked through it. Nothing became clear to her and all was vague and shapeless. It unsettled her.

Clara raised the torch in her hand and when she clicked it on, the figure of her mother appeared in front of her.

"Mum," she breathed, a massive smile on her face. Of course her mum would be here, Clara thought to herself, of course she would come to help, to comfort her. Clara broke into a run, running towards the shade of her mother. The form disintegrated into smoke as soon as Clara touched it. She felt the smoke wrap around her and then move away. She turned around and there her mother was again, standing just behind her. Heart still in her throat, Clara resisted from reaching out to her.

"Clara," her mother said. She opened her mouth to speak again and then her mother disappeared into dust. Clara looked around, awaiting her next sighting of her. But her mother did not appear. But another shape was moving out of the darkness towards her. It was shaped like a salt shaker and Clara's stomach flipped over.

Not again.

"Exterminate!"

There was a flash and the dream crumpled around Clara.

She woke up and her hands were covered in blood. She recoiled and stepped away from a line of corpses. Her mother's still, empty face stared up at her, next to her grandfather and all the people she had lost. Clara stepped away from them again but her legs felt like lead. When she looked down at herself, she saw thick black chains and balls attached to them. Clara wanted to roll her eyes and scold her subconscious for being so cliche. Surely it could do better than balls and chains?

But then the dream changed again.

She stood in the middle of the town called Christmas. Once more snow had covered it but the first thing Clara noticed was that the snow was untouched. It was as pure as the first blanket tended to be in winter. The town was also silent. No lights shone from the houses, no children played in the street. Silence had fallen.

Clara didn't move, afraid to turn, of what she might see. Instead she closed her eyes. Go away. She prayed hard. Leave me alone.

"Clara." The Doctor's voice was so clear, so close to her that she turned her head, a smile breaking across her face. He was here. Her Doctor.

But there was no one else around her.

"Doctor?" she called. "Are you invisible or something? Where are you?" Finally she stepped through the snow. Each step yielded strange smoke from the ground. It formed whisps of little shapes to the side of Clara. Shapes like top hats, feathers, pillows, bubbles, kettles, screwdrivers, books, a drainer, a broom, moons, dancing couples, a message reading No More, cucumbers, notepad and a quill. She stared around at them all before hearing the voice speak again.

"Look up, Clara."

She followed his instruction and jumped backwards.

His face was projected over the sky, the way Tasha Lem's had been. Clara shivered, forcing back the reminder of earlier that day. "What are you doing up there?" she demanded,

The massive face broke into a grin that was both reassuring and unflatteringly emphasised the chin. Clara had to try hard not to giggle a little. "Aren't you forgetting something, Clara?" the Doctor asked, his eyes gleaming with mischief. "Or am I too important for you to care about anyone else?" he remarked.

Clara began to frown. "What are you talking about-?" Seconds later, she realised what he meant and a gigantic gong ran through the town. Clara felt herself being pulled back.

Carla sat up in bed, the truth dawning on her as the blue and silver hues of her bedroom came back into focus. The Doctor was gone and, according to her window, they were still in the Time Vortex. But unease had settled itself inside her chest and was burrowing downward towards her stomach. How could she have forgotten them in all this excitement?

Back on Earth, her family were still waiting for her to come back for the rest of Christmas.


	2. Chapter 2: Satan's Christmas

To no surprise, Clara found the Doctor sitting in the console room fiddling with some switches on the TARDIS.

His face was screwed up with concentration and the TARDIS was making a lot of beeping noises.

Clara couldn't help but wonder if she was supposed to be making those sounds and if the Doctor was actually improving anything. She lingered in the doorway for a moment. Once again she was struck by a curious inability to speak or announce herself. She looked down at the floor, interlocking her fingers as she breathed in. She looked up again and jumped.

The Doctor was looking over at her with a mild frown on his face, his eyes darkening with worry. He'd stopped poking around and the beeping quickly stopped, semi-answering Clara's internal question as it did. Clara walked forward, towards the stairs leading up to the console area. The Doctor pocketed his screwdriver and walked around the console to join her. His face continued to hold the same worry, scanning Clara as she approached. "Are you okay?" he asked her.

"Yep," Clara lied with a lot of confidence for which she was grateful. She glanced towards the TARDIS doors. "I just remembered," she continued, "we never actually finished the whole having-dinner-with-my-family thing. Well, you missed dinner but there's still dessert," she informed him.

The Doctor straightened up a little. Surprised shoved the worry out of his expression. "Oh right yes," he said and a small smile played about his lips. "I'm your boyfriend, correct?"

"Correct," Clara echoed, hating the stab of pain in her chest that it provoked. "Although we will have to explain the naked thing away to them. I kind of said you're Swedish so… we can just put it down to someone daring you to streak into our Christmas gathering," she added hurriedly.

The Doctor blinked. "I can be Swedish," he declared. "I can do that." He began to smile. "This will be nice."

"Yes," Clara forced herself to smile more. "And you're not getting out of it, Mister. Save me from my relatives," she added with a weak joking tone to her voice. Her dad was alright and so was her nan. Really it was just Linda. Stepmother from… well okay not hell but not from heaven either. Clara wasn't sure what her dad saw in her but it was his business she guessed. She smoothed down her skirt and top, checking to make sure that nothing alien or weird had stuck to her clothes. This Christmas was weird enough as it was. Another reason to hate the season, she thought to herself bitterly.

"Aye aye, Captain." The Doctor saluted and Clara rolled her eyes.

"Dork."

As it turned out the re-introduction of the Doctor wasn't the worst part of the evening.

Now that he actually had clothes on, her dad and nan were much more welcoming and pleasant with him. Her stepmum, Linda, was looking at him as though Clara had invited a random drug addict for dinner. She barely kept a civil tongue in her head as she, Clara's dad and Clara's nan, asked him questions about his family and life in Sweden. Although she did throw in some dubious digs that made Clara want to hurl a mug at her. Thankfully Clara resisted the urge. Mainly because she might accidentally get her nan or dad instead. Linda wasn't worth the risk or Clara being the one to react first. So, instead, Clara threw herself into cutting up the Christmas cake in the kitchen and trying not to picture Linda's face in it. The sound of chatter coming from the other room sounded positive enough. Clara took it as an encouraging sign at any rate.

Her mind kept jumping back to Trenzalore and the horror there. She thought of the children and the families that had died thanks to the Daleks and Cybermen. How many of them would never enjoy Christmas again? (The town or the celebration). With thoughts like that in her head, she struggled to muster up the Christmas spirit now.

You can do this. It's just for one day. You can master these feelings, Clara told herself as she started laying out the various portions onto different plates.

"The cake looks good," Linda announced as she entered the kitchen. Clara internally grumbled. Oh she was coming in here to bother her was she? Great.

"Thanks, well it was shop bought," Clara said as she put the last serving onto a plate. She offered it to Linda. Take it and go back to your seat, she hoped. But Linda simply grabbed a fork and leaned against the wall near the door.

"Well yes, dear, I can tell. But it looks good," Linda declared. "So," she said, glancing into the living room, "you patched things up then?"

"Hm?" Clara asked as she put the remainder of the cake away. "Yeah, it was just one of those silly squabbles."

Linda made a noise that Clara hoped was disinterest and would be followed by Linda leaving the kitchen. She and her stepmum didn't really speak much unless it was a special occasion and they kind of had to chat. Right now was hardly necessary, Clara thought. But still, Linda did not leave the kitchen.

"It's a shame really. I had a great list of replacements ready to suggest," Linda declared brightly. "And, you have to admit, he's a bit peculiar."

Carla dropped the knife in the sink and clutched the edge of the kitchen counter, breathing in slowly. "What's wrong with peculiar?" she asked, sharper than intended.

Linda bristled, Clara could see it out of the corner of her eye. "Well, I mean, I know it's not PC to say so but you don't want one of these weird men. You want someone reliable and stable and… well, much more normal. Someone respectable and… straight forward."

Clara scoffed. "You make that kind of guy sound like a piece of furniture," she remarked as she picked up plates for her nan and the Doctor and carried them through. She then brought out her dad's plate. All the while Linda remained in the kitchen, waiting as Clara picked up her own plate.

"At least you know where you are with someone like that," Linda said. "Not half in tears, spoiling the Christmas atmosphere and dashing off a the drop of a hat, that's for sure."

Clara, who had taken her seat between the Doctor and her nan, stiffened.

"Linda, please," Clara's dad said quietly. Clara looked to the Doctor who was giving her a brief, guilty look. Her stomach began to tie itself in knots and she no longer felt hungry.

"I'm just saying. It's a bit uncivilized to have a domestic on Christmas Day." Linda remarked.

"Well I'm sure they didn't do it just to annoy you, Linda," Clara's nan remarked with a smile. "Although if they had, I would have to give them a pat on the back."

The Doctor, Clara and her dad all laughed at that. Clara was particularly satisfied to see the scowl emerge over Linda's face. For the next few minutes, no one spoke and they all concentrated on eating. Well, the others did. Clara managed a few mouthfuls before she occupied herself with pushing the cake around her plate.

She felt the Doctor nudge her gently. "Are you okay?" he whispered.

Clara nodded once. "Fine," she answered forcibly.

"You sure, you haven't eaten much," her dad noted.

Clara nodded. "I'm fine, Dad, really."

"It's all that dashing about after Mr Unreliable here," Linda remarked. "It's spoiled your appetite." The Doctor looked at Linda with a really strained smile. Clara's dad turned to Linda with some exasperation, quietly asking her to drop it. Clara's grip on her cutlery was now super tight.

"You know, I don't remember asking you, Linda," she said curtly. "But thanks for sharing your opinion anyway."

"I was only saying. You can't be the centre of all that drama and not expect comments on it," Linda huffed. "It's not just your Christmas, you're spoiling you know."

"Linda, she hasn't spoiled Christmas," Clara's dad pointed out. However Clara's nan huffed.

"I don't care if she's spoiled yours, Linda. You're certainly trying to spoil it for us. That, I do mind."

Clara managed a smile back at her grandmother, suddenly very glad that her grandmother was here. Linda was just one sour presence in the group but she had a talent for it. Clara just didn't think she had the patience for it today. It said a lot when you'd rather face a Dalek in battle than spend another five minutes in your stepmother's company.

"Me, spoil it? I told you all that we should have hosted Christmas dinner. At least then it would be normal and we'd not all be crammed into this little flat. I mean really Clara, you didn't think it through did you?" Linda said. Clara felt her eyes brim with tears but she forced them back and grit her teeth. The Doctor's hand moved to the small of her back and started rubbing it. He turned to Linda and his voice was firm but cold.

"You know, if you can't be gracious enough to not complain about your host and her efforts today then maybe you should leave." There was the tiniest hint of a warning in the Doctor's voice and Clara was briefly glad of it. Unfortunately, she knew that it was probably the wrong thing to say to her dad who was looking at the Doctor defensively.

"I know you're looking out for my daughter but please do not speak to my wife like that," he said although he was also looking at Linda in frustration.

"I'm sorry sir but I don't think it's fair that Clara should have her efforts scorned when she's gone to a lot of trouble," the Doctor countered.

"No," Clara's dad turned to Linda and shook his had. "She shouldn't. I think Linda's said quite enough. Now let's try and enjoy the rest of Christmas in peace."

"I suppose that depends on what we have in store for this evening." Linda answered defiantly. "We had theatrics, nudity and drama before dinner and then tears before dessert. I wonder what comes next. All I was trying to do was offer Clara some useful advice."

"No you weren't." Clara snapped, her tether breaking along with her temper. "You just wanted to have a bitch because your Christmas hasn't gone to plan, you wanted to take charge of it but we had it here, I didn't want your advice and you're sulking about not getting your own way. If you want to carry on bitching or complaining then just get out. I'm not interested in listening to this." She stood up and carried her plate out to the kitchen, abandoning it to the side. Once again, she held onto the counter.

Two hands cupped her shoulders after a moment and Clara jumped.

"It's just me," her dad whispered. He turned her around and Clara looked up into his kind, aging face. She could see the twinkles in his eyes, the same twinkles that had made her mother fall in love with him, that had started their life together. "I'm sorry about Linda. But I am a bit worried about you, kiddo. You're not really yourself today."

Clara swallowed back some guilt. She wished she could tell him about Trenzalore and her confusing feelings for the Doctor and how she felt so annoyed and scared and upset about what had happened today. She wanted to be a little girl again and have her dad make sense of it all. But she wasn't a little girl anymore and she could deal with this on her own. She was a grown up now. She had to get back to normal.

"It's just stress and the argument from before," she told her dad. "I just can't stomach Linda right now. I just… I need her to go."

"If you're kicking me out, you can at least say it to my face," Linda sniped from across the room before Clara's dad could answer. Clara saw him close his eyes and sigh quietly.

"Shut up," the Doctor snapped, his voice sharpening, "just shut up."

"What?" Linda responded, her voice shooting upwards so high that Clara figured only dogs would hear her soon. "And what makes you think I'm going to listen to you?"

"Nothing. I doubt you listen to anyone," the Doctor said.

"Well said!" Clara's nan piped up from the corner. "Someone ought to tell her. You're the one aggravating this Christmas Linda. The rest of us were enjoying ourselves. As for earlier," she said, "well show me someone's Christmas who hasn't gone a bit wobbly."

Wobbly. Clara managed a small laugh. Trust her grandmother to somehow sum up this Christmas with the perfect, most accurate word. But the humour soon left Clara's face when she looked back at Linda who was rising out of her chair and grabbing her coat. She was now firmly giving the Doctor the stink eye and even Clara's nan got a glare too. Clara clenched her fists, digging her nails into her palms hard. Why did I think this was a good idea?

"You sure you'll be okay?" Clara's dad asked as he pulled her into a hug. Clara leaned into it and nodded, loosening her hands and leaning into him. What did he see in Linda? Her dad was a nice guy, how did he and Linda even work? Though, at the prospect of thinking deeply about it, Clara decided that she didn't want to know. She just relaxed in her dad's arms and welcomed the hug.

"Yeah," she lied. No point in worrying him more.

"Right," her dad declared, addressing Linda and his mother. "I think we'd best get going now before people get more upset."

Clara folded her arms and then eyed the Christmas cake box. "Dad, take this with you," she said, grabbing it and handing it to him. He nodded and took it, holding his mother's coat in his other hand and helping her into it once she had her hands in the sleeves. Clara moved forward to hug her nan and kiss her cheek. "I'm sorry," she whispered.

"No," the older woman whispered to her with a fierce look. "Don't you be sorry. It's her fault, sweetie. You did your best. Just take care, okay?"

Clara nodded and hugged her before turning towards Linda who was looking around the flat distastefully.

"This flat is far too small to host Christmas dinner. Maybe next year you'll have seen sense," she remarked then looked at the Doctor, "in more than one thing, eh?" she then managed a small smirk. "You could learn a thing or two about hosting Christmas."

"If I wanted to learn how to offend my dinner guests, don't worry, I'll come straight to you," Clara bit back.

Linda's jaw dropped a tad which made Clara feel a smidge better. But before Linda could say anymore, Clara's dad put an arm around her and guided her from the room. Her nan followed them out with another affectionate wave at Clara and a blown kiss for her and (to Clara's amusement) the Doctor too. Well, at least he'd made a positive impression on her. Although Clara suspected that had more to do with his naked first impression.

The door closed behind them and Clara exhaled, leaning back against the kitchen counter, suddenly exhausted by the tension. She reached up to her head, rubbing her temple.

"Clara," the Doctor approached her, touching her shoulder. "Are you okay? She was… really quite horrible."

"Yep, that's my stepmum for you. Quite a character," Clara said with feigned brightness in her voice.

"I'm beginning to understand where the Brothers Grimm came from on their stance of stepmothers," the Doctor mused. "She'd certainly make an excellent candidate— Clara?"

Clara barely heard the Doctor call her name as she began to clear up the plates and carry them over the bin. She started clearing them and then putting them in the sink. Keeping busy helped to keep the weighty emotions at a distance. She felt too tired to deal with them all now. This was definitely going down as one of her worst Christmases ever and that was even without the insane Trenzalore fiasco. She scrubbed at the dishes, running them under hot water, forcing the tears back from her eyes.

"Go on, I'm listening," she managed to croak.

"Clara," the Doctor's voice was insistent. "Stop it. Leave that for now. Sit down and I'll make you a nice cup of tea."

"I'm fine," Clara hated how it sounded so squeaky. The Doctor's hands closed around her shoulders and she felt him step up behind her. "Come on Clara."

"Really, I'm fine- ow, shit!" Clara cursed as her hand passed under the scalding water of the tap. She turned the tap off with her other hand. One of the Doctor's moved to turn the cold tap on full. His other hand took Clara's scalded hand gently in his own and ran it under the tap. The cold stung momentarily but began to soothe the sensation within seconds.

"There we go," the Doctor murmured over her shoulder. He moved one hand back to her shoulder and turned her to face him. "Now Clara, I insist you sit down and let me make you a cup of tea," he said. His voice was gentle but there was a look in his eyes that was very reminiscent of the one he had when he was facing down Daleks and Cybermen. It was intense and just a little bit sexy which was not helping the situation at all. "No arguments," he added with a quirky little smile at the end which made it virtually impossible to refuse.

"Fine," Clara murmured and took a seat in the living room, in the middle of the comfortable red sofa that took up most of the space. She looked around the flat. Yes it was small but it was cozy and it suited her very well for being on her own. She should have known that Linda would make things difficult today. That she would look down on Clara's efforts. But it wasn't like Clara could have invited her dad without inviting her too and Clara wanted to see her dad, to spend time with him. They didn't get a lot of time together these days since he'd moved out of London and she'd taken the teaching job. Now it would probably be some more time before she spent quality time with him again, and her nan.

Clara rested her elbow on the back of the couch, supporting her face with her fist as she looked at her empty fireplace. Today had been a sucker punch all round. Clara just wanted it to be over now. Outside the sky was darkening and it was just about time to turn on all the lights. Christmas night was upon them now.

Clara was walking through the snow, gazing around at the quiet, peaceful town of Christmas with its merry couples strolling along and colourful lights dangling from giant pine tree to giant pine tree. She saw the Doctor walking next to her, grinning as he admired it all.

Clara shook herself, snapping out of the reminder. Light flickered on in every lamp throughout the flat and the Christmas tree burst into colourful twinkles of red, green and blue. Clara sat up a little and looked towards the door to the kitchen. The Doctor was smiling at her, his hands lingering next to the buttons for the lights and lamps. Everything looked so bright and relaxed. It was hard not to sink back into the couch and let some of the worry of the day slip away.

Carla saw people hurrying towards the great church as she moved past them, heading to the TARDIS, the Doctor's little device in her hand. A few people cast curious looks at the box but they all kept moving, answering the Doctor's summons. Carla looked back at the place as she stepped into the TARDIS.

Clara was stirred from her memories again by the rattling sounds of two cups being brought in on their saucers. She looked up as the Doctor sat himself down next to her and offered her her cup of tea. She reached for it gently. "Thanks," she said. She leaned back and sipped her tea cautiously. Next to her, the Doctor leaned back and smiled at her.

"Well, if nothing else," he remarked, "that was eventful."

Clara laughed at the simplicity of the truth. "This whole day has been eventful," she remarked.

The Doctor was silent. "I forgot, all of this was just one day for you," he said.

"It was hundreds of years for you," Clara recalled.

He smiled. "Yes. It was interesting taking the slow path," he mused. "I got to know them all, over and over, and it was remarkable," he said.

"They got to know you too. They were lucky." Clara said.

Blaster fire and screaming civilians were the first things Clara saw as she stepped out of the blue box. The Silence moved, channelling their powers into the sky and firing a the approaching Daleks. Chants of "Delete!" and "Exterminate!" intermingled with the hissing speech of the Silence raining down their judgement. Children scream. Things were blowing up or being set on fire around them. Debris was flying everywhere. Clara saw the children's wide, frightened eyes and heard them scream until they could scream no more. Brave soldiers of the church were running around, trying to take the blaster fire in their direction, away from the children. All around her, life was snuffed out.

"Clara," the Doctor's voice pulled her back from the flashback. She looked around at him.

"Hm?"

"Are you sure you're all right?" he asked. "You were a right Dolly Daydream then," he remarked with a chuckle.

Clara forced a smile. "I'm fine."

"You've been saying that all afternoon and I don't think you are," the Doctor countered.

Clara sipped from her tea. "Well it's true," she said defensively. "Whether you believe me or not, that's your choice." The Doctor frowned and Clara felt simultaneous, huge pangs of regret and annoyance hit her at once. She shrugged her shoulders. "It's just been a long day," she said in a calmer voice.

They drank their tea in silence for a while. The Doctor looked around her flat and then at the pictures on her mantlepiece. "I like this place," he decided. "It's all cozy and human."

Clara forced herself to laugh a little. "Thanks."

"It's very Clara," he added as he stood up and looked at the framed leaf she'd positioned on the wall.

Honestly Clara had given up trying to figure out the time travel issues of her getting that leaf back after it had been disintegrated on Akhaten. But she was grateful for it, she thought as she drank her tea. But still, even relaxing like this was tainted by the day. Maybe she would feel better once it wasn't Christmas anymore. She ran a finger around the rim of her cup.

She should be happy, she knew. The Doctor had avoided his death, he had a new cycle of regenerations and a fresh future ahead of him. Nothing like today had to happen again. They could go back to having adventures, running for their lives and making a lot of memories along the way. Except, Clara reasoned to herself, this isn't going to be the last time that the Doctor nearly dies, that he'll send you away for your safety. It'll happen again. It's how he lives his life. Clara knew that the Doctor risked his life just as she did by going to help people. She knew there was always a chance that they would both be killed. But she didn't like the thought of being sent away without a goodbye like that. And yet she couldn't expect the Doctor to not put her safety first. That was not who he was. She shouldn't be annoyed by that.

You're just over-thinking it. You need to sleep. Clara advised herself internally. She finished her tea and put the cup down. She watched the Doctor who was looking at her. His eyes were still full of concern and Clara smiled a little. He might be childish, goofy, a bit mad and full of beans but there was no denying that he had a good heart.

"I'll be fine," she answered his unspoken question. "I just need to sleep."

"Good," he said. He nodded towards the door. "I better get back to the TARDIS. But I'll see you soon?"

Clara nodded. "Of course. Maybe after Christmas?"

He grinned. "Yes yes, I know how you hate the holidays."

Clara forced a smile. Yes but you don't really know why, she thought. It was hard to like the holidays when her mum had died during them. It kind of knocked the spirit of Christmas out of Clara and she had never really got it back.

The Doctor finished his tea and put the cup down next to Clara's. "Until next time, Miss Oswald." Clara smiled and stood up, pulling the Doctor into a surprise hug. He quickly returned it and she held onto him for a few long seconds before she pulled away. "Merry Christmas, Clara," he told her.

"Merry Christmas," she whispered.


End file.
